Page 5 of Grump and Grumpier

The conference room table is refreshingly cool under my heated skin, and I rest one side of my face against it as I twist to look back and catch a glimpse of Derek’s face. It’s contorted in what looks deceptively like pain, then for one fleeting moment, itregisters bliss, before his features quickly settle back into their usual arrangement.

Jansen, meanwhile, looks agitated, his jaw tighter than it was earlier, his hair disheveled, as if he’s just run his hand through it. He turns away as Derek pulls out of me, spent.

“How’re you holding up, Ana?” Derek’s voice is ragged, and I’m thrilled to know that fucking me is what caused him to sound like that.

My own voice is thick when I tell him I’m good. Objectively, I’m a bit worn out from the way he just went at me, but there’s no way I’d admit that. There’s too much dopamine flooding my system right now for me to care, anyway.

Derek caresses my bottom for a quick moment before he steps away, then there’s the sound of a zipper, a quiet grunt, and different hands on my hips, sliding down the outside of my thighs, then back up.

Jansen’s fingers glide through my slick folds as another low sound arises from somewhere deep in his throat. Another foil packet opening, and I’m tingling with anticipation. A blast of cold air hits my back from a vent that must be overhead, but I’m oblivious to it as soon as Jansen’s cock finds my entrance.

I’m sure he can’t possibly be as big as Derek, but he quickly proves me wrong. He gives me another good stretch, and surprises me by setting a pace that’sslower and smoother than his partner. He moves in a way that allows me to savor each withdrawal; I’d swear I can feel the veins on his cock dragging along my walls each and every time.

His hand slides around to possessively clutch the front of my pussy, one of his fingers pressing against my clit, tapping it with each bump of his hips. His body curls over me, the heat of him surrounding me inside and out as he fills me with each unhurried thrust.

There’s an intimacy to it that I know I’m imagining. We just met—we barely met—and I’ll never see these men again, except in my fantasies, where I know they’ll make frequent appearances.

“Come again, Ana.” He accompanies his terse command with a few dazzling swirls of his hips and a light pinch on my clit, and it’s my pleasure, literally, to do as I’m told.

I come apart yet again, and this time I’m gratified when I realize Jansen is joining me. He groans just before his cock starts to pulse inside me. His fingers splay across my center as if to say, “Mine,” and he holds me tight as we both rock through our climaxes together.

I’m his for that one long moment, his forehead resting on my back after he’s spent, both of us catching our breath.

When he eventually pulls away, self-consciousnessknocks again, but I tell it to go away. This was good—far better than good, actually—and I refuse to regret it, no matter how utterly ill-advised it was.

I could feel like these powerful men used me for their pleasure, especially with the way they took me from behind, not even looking at my face while they fucked me. But I used them formypleasure, too, and if counting orgasms was a form of keeping score, I’d say I came out on top.

By the time I have the strength to straighten, both men have zipped up their trousers, making it clear that the fun times are over.

I find my lacy thong flung on a nearby chair, and I’m starting to pull it back on, when Derek poses a question that stops me mid-motion.

“So, when can you start?”

CHAPTER 4

ANA

“What?” I can’t have heard him right.

“You’ve got the job. How soon can you start?”

My underwear falls back to the floor as I stiffen. “I don’t want the job.” Maybe it’s rude to blurt this out, but I’m not exactly in the right frame of mind to be tactful. “And there’s no way I could work for you after … this.” My hand swings in a wide arc, in the general direction of the conference table.

Derek frowns hard. “Why not?”

“I’m not going to take a job that I got by having sex with the men who run the company!”

The furrows of his brow are so deep something could get lost in there. “One thing has nothing to do with the other.”

Now it’s my turn to make a dramatic facial expression, as one of my eyebrows arches in a picture of extreme skepticism. I’m standing here half nakedin a conference room,and he’s trying to tell me sex and the job have no connection.

I bend and retrieve my thong again, and manage to get both it and my bra back on before Derek speaks again.

“What are you making at your current job?”

This information is irrelevant, but talking while I get dressed in front of these two fully clothed men somehow seems less awkward than not talking, so I tell him my annual salary.

“The position here starts at fifty percent more than that, with regular increases for good performance,” Derek says.

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